Why pigs are better.

A few weeks ago, while I was down in Texas, I got a call from a neighbor of ours here in Sequim. She called to let me know that our pig had escaped and had made its way to her home.

I assured her that we don’t have a pig. This surprised her. Fortunately, Linda happened to overhear this conversation. She asked me to put the caller on hold, then told me it isn’t entirely the case that we don’t have a pig. In fact the absence of a pig isn’t the case at all.

We have Sweet, a 30-or-so pound potbellied pig that Tyler, our friend and handyman, had rescued from below a damp sofa in someone’s back yard.

Sweet is a terrific pet. Among his many good points is his intelligence. He’s much smarter than a dog, for example. He required just one “Hey, don’t do that here” in order to be housebroken. He’s cleaner than a dog, too. He doesn’t bark, though he will grunt and squeal a little when he gets pissed.

He likes to have his belly rubbed and his ears scratched. He loves it when someone sits on his sofa with him. But he isn’t needy.

Sweet is largely an independent soul, spending his days grazing in our yard. At dusk he comes in, climbs onto his sofa, arranges his blanket over his head, and sleeps until 8 or 9 the next morning.

He eats scraps, too. For example, anything. We no longer have garbage in our garbage. We have Sweet instead.